Wednesday, November 11, 2009

True to most, the meaning of Veterans Day has been reduced to merely a " fall holiday off from school" or an "excuse for stores to have a closeout sale," but I see the true meaning of this extraordinary holiday. Today, I give thanks to brave men who fought for the freedoms I take for granted each day. Freedoms like: The ability to wear pants that clearly delineate the position of my dick in my pants, and amass great knowledge from good ole’ fashioned American websites full Christian moral values and a sense of propriety that could only be found in the cyber-pages of the American Internet. Revered web pages like: “Munchkins giving Blumpkins” or who could forget the ever-brilliant “8-Dudes, 1-Overweight transgender hooker.”

Yes, today is a solemn day for gratefulness and great remembrance but my fellow Americans, do not weep for these brave men, neigh, that would only serve to tarnish their valiant memories. Instead, live like the Americans they so courageously fought to protect. Boys, be on the wrong side of twenty and still try to “make it” in the music business. Girls, the same goes for you, only encourage these “saviors of senselessness” for they, are the true Veterans. As each day they wake up at the crack of noon just to get to the campus Starbucks on time for the mid-afternoon rush of unsuspecting girls clad in American Apparel who will spread their legs to a couple nautical stars on the arm and a MacBook. But I digress…

The true meaning of this holiday is to give thanks. So, to the men who fight tirelessly on the front lines of Afghanistan and GarageBand, I give my foremost gratitude. Thank you and the happiest of Veterans Days.

You may have realized I left out the servicewomen in this brief diatribe but never could I finish this important blog on a most important holiday without recognizing the true bravery, you ladies display. You carry the most important weight in keeping this great nation of ours from harm, preparing the meals and providing the services of your great breasts to ease the minds of our brothers in arms. Thank you ladies for putting the war on soap scum on hold long enough to fight the horizontal-war. You show true bravery in the face of protein-projectiles. I’m just foolin’ ladies you too are a very valued member of this great country and do much to better as well as protect it each day. I extend my deepest thanks to you, the servicewomen.

Besides, I love a woman in uniform. Just ask my girlfriend; on occasion I’ll have her dress up as a hooters girl when I feel she isn’t being enough of an easily-degradable whore.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Thedirty.com, the name speaks volumes, a collaborative effort amongst the scorned & belittled to enact faceless revenge on their trespasser. Oh you pretty things. Let us set aside any argument of scale I can suffice to discredit these scribes of injustice, or vanguard threats on my behalf. What we have, plain and simple, is a website who’s primary function is to bolster claims of smut and slander with less than flattering pictures. Brilliant. You post a couple of paragraphs and a picture of a slut to a website who’s job is post pictures of other sluts. That’s like posting a picture of John Travolta’s son to whoopsIslippedinthebathtub.com. It’s too easy. Do you think IP user 128.13.568 from Omaha cares about the girl from Boca squatting on a dildo for 311 tickets? No, they’re probably saying, ” Wouldn’t want to be that girl behind the pink stars.” Well that’s where me and Omaha go our separates.Someone had to sit there, at their computer chair, and rack their brain for the perfect words of discordance to get their revenge, but you ultimately fail. It is them, those standing scantly clad in a portrait of dishonor who get to feel those words as you will never. You, Soldiers of their infinite notoriety lovingly post Testaments to their withstanding existence, because of an impact so meaningful, so profound upon you, that they brought forward emotions inside you likened to a Jew writing about Hitler, hated, but not soon forgotten. Unlike yourself who will come and go like Peewee Herman in a porn theater .You cried because of them. You felt insecure because of their actions. You are pawn. Merchants of your own un-doing because as the assaulted, smirks and smiles at your work, you feel empty knowing that no amount of words, embarrassing photos or subsequent laughter will fill that part of you that they took away and you’ll never get back.It’s obvious that this rant isn’t out of pure happenstance, nor is it in rebuttal to any scandal of my own, though it makes me sad that it’s not. This is disclaimer that using a website like thedirty.com as your weapon of mass-humiliation makes you a particular individual devoid of any comical wit or cognitive capacity. May you continue to exploit your own insecurities to the world, hopefully soon you'll immortalize me. Fuck it I’ll write the damn thing you just post it. Anything you want to write derogatory about me you can already find on MY FACEBOOK. Even still, I feel compelled to detract from your little victories with this, my clever lampoon:

Willy Wanker & The Fudge FactoryDear Nik,I first saw this overly cocky little fairy, at an English pub pretending he was British. He goes out dressed like a little pixie with pants he probably bought at the baby gap that leave very little to the imagination. He walks around Boca with an undeserved sense of accomplishment and tries to pick fights wherever he goes even though Dakota Fanning outweighs him by an eighth-grader. He talks like Stewie Griffin but looks more like Kathy. Oh and he steals peoples girlfriends, have I left anything out? Email question & concerns to : bloodyhellit’sfeckintpcupo’teathenshinysixpences@gmail.com

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Yesterday I went to the florida mall to master the flow-rider. The gayness ensued as soon as I walked in the door. I was visually asualted with ed hardy shirts and belts on sale in a mother-lickin skate shop. Epic. Simply amazing. The line has been crossed, Ed Hardy has now injected his grubby little dodgy tattoo soaked fingers into surfing and skate culture. Fuck You Hardy, stick to what you do best, clad the metrosexual "badboy" Italians. Last time I checked, the last time a surfer spent $60 on anything, it was on radical buds.

I digress, So I do the damn thing and in my normal fashion I master it in a matter of minutes. So now I'm impressing all the lil ladies that frequent the mall. Then as if in a pure coincidental stroke of cock-blockery they close the contraption so, get this, their sponsored flo-rida can practice for nationals. NATIONALS! Dear me, I must of forgot that the flow riding championships generate more of a crowd than winona ryder shooting ping pong balls out of her Sargent pepper. This is comical, I wonder if he picks up girls like this..."Hey.. oh yea I'm a pro flo-rida..wanna go back to my pad. My friend used to be a flo-rida.. yea he used to bang his girlfriend whilst on the rag. Now that is a real sport. You're just a pussy on a boogie-board my son.

Monday, May 18, 2009

This German hard rock machine, with British belter John Lawton, (later of Uriah Heep) gave birth to one of the best heavy rock albums of the early 70's. From the screaming vocals of "Ride In The Sky" (with its brass opening reminiscent of Zeppelin's "The Immigrant Song" and an almost "thrash metal" riff) to the progressive/hard R&B of "Toxic Shadows", to the lumbering, Sabbathish doom of "Keep Goin", this album never lets up for a second. Fans of Black Sabbath, Uriah Heep, Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin must have this in their collection! Lawton is one of the best singers in hard rock, and the musicianship of the group is tremendous. Very heavy indeed for a 1970 release.

Monday, April 6, 2009

It has come time for me to address an issue plaguing both myself personally and more importantly the world. Often I find myself in South Beach or in another location of an Avant-garde scene where I will see a woman so starved for attention she starves herself. Please explain this fad to me. Yes it is true I love myself but not enough to want to engage in relations with my mirror image.

Now before I rant I must disclaim the following: In no way am I prejudiced against small breasts. Anyone who knows me could peer into my track record of past lovers to find all of them were pushing “A” cups if the stuffed midgets in their bras. I assure you my detestation does not spawn from this. It is the fact that said girls are so hell bent on being thin girls they end up looking like boys. Only closet homosexuals’ posses the wear-with-all to find such a girl attractive. In fact I know such a “protector of his sexuality” who dates one of these monsters of malnourishment, for this particular example he will be referred to as “Dane.” Dane finds it attractive to starve his girlfriend to the point of undernourishment as to make her look like his perfect male concubine. One question, where are the parents.

Any self-respecting parent would sit their beloved down and force-feed her a Big-Mac. I know mine would. This continuance in trend leads me to believe it must stem from daddy issues. Listen up sweetheart, keep making yourself thinner and people will continue to ridicule you. Which means only a matter time before you take their critiques as an excuse to skip a few meals. Come to think of it keep starving yourself, hopefully you will eventually cause your own demise and natural selection will carry on, business as usual. A tip of my hat to you anorexic, bulimic, or whatever you go by “twelve year old boy” looking girl. Continue to make your statement however small it may be.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Last night was the annual Universal Knights. One night out of the year, where the Islands of Adventure Park at Universal is open to only UCF students at no cost. Albeit it was a good result, but you couldn’t escape entering any line without having hear how funny Seth Rogan is from a member of I Felta Thigh or some other dense fraternity.

As the Dude would of seen fit, my heterosexual life partner Clark and I, started our night off Abiding with White Russians and Steve Miller. Much to my wallets chagrins, there were designated beer gardens where one could get nice and hammered and enjoy the wonderment at a minimal fee of $850 per drink. Luckily, there was a place to take out second mortgages at 5.4% FRM nearby. As Clark is not 21 I found myself sneaking him drinks out the back. It was a slippery slope, seeing as there were more cops there than at a black-pride/free doughnuts rally. It was a slope as slippery as John Travolta’s son’s bathtub floor.

Moving on, the lengthy lines made for perfect opportunities for me to amass material for my dastardly columns and to mac on the overwhelming amount of scene girls present. All in all it was a good time, for at least I know my fart jokes made at least four people laugh in the line for the dueling dragons.

Here is a Hooverville of a Supermarket. Part Supermarket, part souvenir store/ part Indian trading post

Thursday, April 2, 2009

I am going against my norm of making fun of the snubs of society to have a rant about something a bit more significant. For those who are not in the know, there are thousands of young English people my age taking to the streets of London to protest the current world market crisis at the G-20 convention.

The G-20 is a group of finance ministers and central bank governors from 20 economies around the world. Every year those in the current Troika, take time off from their golf vacations to Saint Andrews to make decisions for us on how to address issues pertaining to the international financial system.

Now let me fuck you up with some truth. This all a mess of bureaucratic bollocks. In case you have been living under a rock, you should know that there is a one in five chance the United States will go into a Depression. We are facing a real threat of a real depression. It is time we stop these bourgeoisie republicans from critiquing our President every step of the way (I am willing to take a 7 and add one or two zeroes to it for the head of Rush Limbaugh).

We need to act with a common sense of purpose, optimistically and for the greater good of our world. If that doesn’t work join me in the streets for one hell of a riot. Setting fires to small businesses and all that bits and pieces.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Call me Ishmael or better yet call me the single most opinionated fuck in the world. Though I must clear up some pre-emptive questions I’m sure you are all just dying to ask. In no way must you take anything I say here seriously. Take me with a grain of salt, much like someone with an affliction for affliction would do his shot of patron shortly after he mumbles something monosyllabic about how bad his tattoos hurt for his other paisons to understand.

The impact of having one's own personal long tail is huge. I see it as a way to expand my footprint and leave most (who don’t understand my sick and twisted brand of comedy or for that matter any comedy to speak of) with a bad taste in their mouth.

Given the fact I have no advertising posts, my intent is not for traffic only to point of the variety of societal wrongdoings of the present, but mostly to shit on the "Conquistadors" of anti-culture, you know who you are. So sit back, dig, while I give each of you your respective mind fucks.

P.s. If you are unsure as to what type of person i was referencing to in the above this may clear it up..